


Wishing for a Nap

by IchiBri



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, family au, he needs a nap, married au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 12:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchiBri/pseuds/IchiBri
Summary: Shiro can't fathom how his three-year-old has the energy to race around the house after waking up at 3 a.m. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, she runs Shiro in circles well into the afternoon. When he finally convinces her to settle down with a movie, he hopes to catch a quick catnap. But with a rambunctious child, nothing ever goes as planned.





	Wishing for a Nap

Parenthood was a blessing, but it often left Shiro wondering how such a tiny bundle of a three-year-old embodied the hyped-up energy of a can of Red Bull. He was certain if Red Bull was a person, it'd be his little angle Keiko. Constantly buzzing around and jumping off furniture, she ran her fathers in circles until he and Keith were sprawled on the living room carpet with jumbo blocks and race cars strewn around them. But just when they got their second wind for more castle destroying and super hero play, they'd find Keiko passed out in her toy box, cozy as could be among her dinosaurs and dolls.

It was only a matter of time, Shiro knew, before the giggling toddler proclaiming "You can't catch me!" while scampering through the kitchen would collapse on the spot for an impromptu nap. Maybe she'd crawl under the dining chairs and table to escape capture and doze off while waiting for Daddy Shiro to stop circling the table like a hungry shark. Or she'd take a running leap for the sectional sofa, declare it as her hero headquarters, and rule that no villain (even her beloved daddy playing pretend) may rest upon its cushions. Most likely, though, she'd rummage through the toy box in the living room searching for her monster-fighting sword or magical wand and, being distracted by the softness of her plush animals, pass out with her favorite hippo plush clutched in her arms.

Yes, it was only a matter of time. Shiro kept telling himself that as he slid through the kitchen on his socks. He slipped into the dining room, chasing after the pitter patter of tiny feet and the chirpy laughter echoing off the walls. But when Keiko scurried through the legs of a chair, she didn't hunker down beneath the table. Putting any soldier to shame, she crawled across the floor and out the legs of the opposite chair with such wiggly precision that she left Shiro choking on her dust.

As her broad, prideful grin and bouncing pigtails disappeared into the living room, Shiro steadied himself against a dining chair and heaved a breath. He wasn't this out of shape. Truly. He could keep up with his little sweet pea and then some most days. But most days, he wasn't woken up at three in the morning.

Honestly, he couldn't fathom how Keiko hadn't collapsed from exhaustion yet.

He had been groggy and confused when thumping roused him and Keith from their sleep. With a drowsy kiss on the forehead, he whispered for Keith to go back to sleep before trudging down the hall to their daughter's bedroom. One hand pushing open the door, the other rubbed some of the crust from his eyes as he peeked inside.

With the blue glow of a night light illuminating the pretty purple walls, Shiro blinked with delightful amusement. Hair an absolute mess of tangles and defying every law of gravity, one sock on and the other nowhere to be found, every stuffed animal on her bed situated precisely around her in a lopsided circle, Keiko stood paused atop her bedside stool. With knees bent and arms drawn back ready to make the mightiest of leaps, she looked to Shiro as if he had interrupted the most important moment of her young life.

"What are you doing?" Shiro asked with a slight shake of his head and a languid smile.

"A circus."

"I see," Shiro said, but he saw nothing. Logic couldn't wrap itself around any toddler, and Shiro learned to roll with the silly antics early on. "Is now the best time to do it, though?"

With an animated bob of her head, Keiko grinned. "Yep!" She jumped off the stool and landed with a loud thud that shook the lamp atop her dresser. She straightened with a wide flourish of her arms and beamed at Shiro with a smile awaiting praise.

"Very impressive," he quietly clapped. He stepped around the plushie audience and knelt beside Keiko. "But it's 3 a.m. Aren't you tired?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope."

Giving up any hope of returning back to the warmth of his husband in bed, Shiro lightly sighed. "Okay then." He swept Keiko into his arms and cradled her to his chest. "How about we play quietly until Papa wakes up?"

And that was how their morning started. Shiro thought she would've dozed off before breakfast, but they were well into the afternoon and her engine was still roaring away like a freight train on the tracks. As he trudged into the living room, he hoped Keith would return from running errands soon and let Shiro tap out for a short break. Half an hour, no even ten minutes would be plenty. Just enough to rest his eyes and alleviate a bit of the sleepless burn to them.

When Shiro passed behind the sofa, Keiko darted for the space between it and the plush armchair. Faster than a cheetah and as hard to catch as an oiled piglet, she giggled her glee as she raced for another lap of the kitchen. But Shiro, with the last burst of energy in his depleted tank, caught her around the middle. She let out a shrill, playful shriek when Shiro swept her off her feet and spun her in the air.

"Caught you." Shiro laughed as she wiggled and writhed with chirps of "Again! Again!" tumbling from her lips in time with the kicking of her feet.

"How about-" Shiro grunted as he lifted Keiko high before swooping her low like an airplane to the couch, cradling her in his lap as he plopped onto the cushion "-we take a breather and watch some cartoons?"

Her lips pursed with a petulant pout, and Shiro braced his heart against giving in. Because another few laps around the house and it might be Shiro who hides under the dining table for a nap.

With his finger, he rubbed Keiko's protruding lip, and the silly pops of sound enticed a smile out of her. She giggled a breath before swatting at his hand.

"Daddy's tired. Do you think we could watch a movie, and then when Papa gets back, we'll all play?"

"When I'm tired, I take a nap." Keiko said. Then her dark brown eyes lit up with an epiphany, and she crawled to kneel in Shiro's lap with an excited buzz making her bounce. "You need a nap!"

Shiro chuckled. "I do."

This time, when Keiko wiggled for freedom, Shiro let her slide out of his lap. A little girl on a mission, she marched for the hallway to their bedrooms but turned back with a quiet gasp. She bounced back to the sofa and patted the cushion. "Lay down."

With such care and determination in her voice—and an equal amount of stubbornness to her gaze—she waited with little patience for her daddy to listen. Luckily for her, after a momentary blink of pleasant surprise, Shiro tipped over onto his stomach and buried his face in the cushion.

"Better?" he mumbled into the plush sofa.

"Don't move! I'll be back."

With a rumbled sigh, Shiro knew he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. "M'kay." Shiro turned his head in time to watch Keiko run out of the living room. Absently, he smiled to himself. A soft tenderness warmed his heart, and he could so easily drift off in its coziness.

His eyes slowly blinked open at the shuffled footsteps on the carpet. Gentle, yet clumsy hands spread a starry galaxy blanket over his back. Far too small, the blanket square barely covered down to his thighs, but he bit his lip to contain the endearment bubbling up his throat and wanting to gush forth in zealous coos.

It was Keiko's favorite blankie. She couldn't sleep without it.

"Can I lay with you?" she quietly asked.

"Of course, sweet pea."

Keiko climbed onto the sofa and crawled up Shiro's back. Her knees jabbed his ribs, but when she draped herself along his spine—resting her head at the crook of his neck—he relished in the comfort of her weight.

"What are we gonna watch?"

Shiro hummed his contemplation. Blindly, he reached for the remote he knew to be on the side table. Muffled giggles ghosted against his neck as Keiko grasped onto his shirt, and he might've wiggled a bit more than necessary to elicit even more of his daughter's glee. But when she laughed through her demands of "Daddy, stop!", Shiro innocently answered back, "Stop what?"

Shiro scrolled through the movie selections on Netflix until a kitty thumbnail caught Keiko's attention. He selected it and then placed the remote back on the side table. As Keiko mimicked the "da-dun" of the intro, he shifted to pillow his head on his arms.

With a slow blink, his eyes closed. His mind settled down to the quiet drone of the movie, absently following the music and conversations. With Keiko's warmth pressed against his back—each of her breaths ghosting along his jaw—Shiro dozed off to a languid consciousness. Not quite asleep, but teetering on the edge of blissful rest, he was cozy and comfortable, a single moment away from drifting off completely.

But Keiko shifted and wiggled. She held Shiro on the brink of sleep. After a short five minute rest, she pushed up with her palms against Shiro's shoulder blades. On hands and knees, she balanced precariously with the deep, drowsy groan that rumbled through Shiro's chest.

Keiko leaned down, her weight pushing further into Shiro's shoulder. Her lips hovered by his ear, and she inhaled a deep breath before releasing a mighty roar.

Shiro's eyes slowly dragged open. They trailed to their corners and was met with the elation of Keiko's grin peering over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice thick with sleep.

"I'm a lion." To emphasize her point, she roared again.

Shiro squeezed an eye shut and braced against the echo of the sound in his ears. "That's nice, baby." He barely finished when Keiko bounced on his back and drew a grunt from him. "I thought you were going to nap with me."

"I did," she chirped. She crawled down Shiro's back and thighs—hitting every sensitive nerve in his body, it seemed—before sliding off the couch.

Shiro cracked an eye open. He followed the soft padding of her footsteps to the toy box nestled in the corner. She rummaged through it, and with the tumbling of toys dull in his ears, Shiro pushed his face back into the cushion.

He courted sleep with every quiet breath. But masterfully, it evaded him. Or more accurately, it was chased away by mighty roars and launched attacks that jolted his entire body. But it was the gleeful giggles, so filled with elation and joy, which followed each disturbance that eased Shiro's mind back into a place of peace and comfort. Because never, in any universe, would Shiro be angered or annoyed by his child's joy.

After all, it was only a matter of time, he reminded himself. Soon, she'd run out of steam or be distracted by the movie enough for Shiro to catch a fifteen minute catnap. Until then, he'd persevere.

The leaps onto his back softened to careful stacking of toys. He peeked an eye open at the first light weight placed on him. Watching through the veil of his lashes, he saw Keiko run back to the toy box for another dinosaur. Before she turned to him again, he feigned sleep. A softly blissful smile gave him away, but Keiko was too wrapped up in balancing the toy on his leg to notice.

Shortly after having a plush hippo wedged beneath his arm, Shiro dozed off. So far gone, he didn't feel the mountain of stuffed animals stacked precariously on his head and cascading over the armrest onto the side table. But through the heaviness of sleep sticking to his body and soul, he roused at the child crawling onto his back. Almost like a cat—with a careful grace—Keiko curled up on his shoulders. Somewhere in the fog of Shiro's mind, he registered that comfortable weight as his daughter. Soothed with a newfound coziness—a feeling of warmth and home, a bliss known only by the love of a child—Shiro found the tranquility of sleep.

In a pile of stuffed animals and toys, that was how Keith found them. He hadn't the heart to wake them, so each kiss he pressed to their foreheads was soft and feather-light in its tenderness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me @ichibri on tumblr & twitter


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